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Courtesy
Feint is on her way back from Kaon, and needless to say, even flying, it's taking a long way. She's disturbed by how she practically had her hand bitten off by Drift when she offered to help Hot Rod, and she's even more disturbed by everything that happened with the IAA. She doesn't know how she's going to break it to Blurr, but the less involved with them he is, the better. It's all happening too fast, and it's pushing her to do things she doesn't want to do. Flying along as a tiny little ultramarine drone the size of Laserbeak or Buzzsaw, she's following the pancontinental highway to Iacon, passing checkpoints thanks to the clearance Blurr's caste allows her. She registers as his property - he's likely not aware of it - but it makes things easier for Feint when travelling. No one questions a drone going home to its 'master'. Blurr is in Translucentia Heights, waiting near the expressway for Feint to arrive. He is pacing around at the rest stop that awaits travellers upon entering that particular sector of Iacon from the main ramp off the highway. Hopefully she made it back all right...Drift seemed awfully aggressive and unpredictable. He seems to spontaneously hate and desire to kill random people. As far as the racer can tell, anyway. It's almost an open question what Breakdown is doing in Iacon at this point, and particularly what he's doing about the possibility of being stopped and questioned. He's not a suspect in anything /particular/ right now, to his knowledge, but considering how much gruntwork he's done in illegal activities ranging from what might be classified as domestic terrorism all the way down the line to the moral equivalent of /jaywalking/, well, it takes a certain bluff courage to even be out and about where the upper crust might find his bulk large and inconvenient in their way. It might be he spends too much time with people for whom borrowing trouble is an entertaining hobby; it might just be that nobody pays Breakdown for smarts. In any event, here he is, rolling over bronzen streets in the soft rumble of an engine thinking about something else. The trick to getting anywhere you want to go is looking like you know where you're headed. It's an oldie, but a goodie. Rolling toward the highway, tires thrumming over the coppery sheen of the street, he slows as he catches sight of somebody who looks like Blurr. His tires tick-tick-tick with the loss of momentum. He considers, and then coasts forward over the dull gleam of wealth (heh) to angle for the rest stop. Feint finds her way to the rest stop where Blurr (and unbeknownst to her, Breakdown) have paused to cool their engines. Hovering into arched open gateway, her sensors home right in on Blurr and she floats towards him silently. << Oh good, you're here all right. You are all right, aren't you? >> she radios to him, meeting his gaze at eye-level. The black camera dome on the front of the teardrop-shaped, x-wing aerodrone turns, dozens of internal cameras adjusting for light and focus on Blurr and everything around him. << Feint! Yes, I'm fine. >> Blurr looks up at her. He's definitely happy to see her. He doesn't notice Breakdown yet. Thankfully there aren't too many visitors here at the moment, mostly Heights residents coming and going. They know the speedster has a hab suite here so he doesn't attract too much attention, though Breakdown gets some weird looks. << You okay yourself? >> Breakdown is worthy of some weird looks, big and bulky as he is; as he reverts to root mode, he still stands there looking like essentially what he is, i.e., a big truck with a bad attitude -- still, if his frown exists at the moment, it's a mild, thoughtful version of itself. He palms the card Blurr gave him the other night, checking the frequency, and then shrugs barely perceptibly, if anyone were to be watching him, and calls him up with it. (Better late than never, maybe.) << Rattled but fine. I don't think those IAA fellows are going to be coming home, at least not some of them. This is getting out of hand and I don't know what to do anymore. >> Feint transforms and lands on her feet near Blurr. "I don't think they have your wellbeing in mind. Not if they're sending soldiers with guns to collect you." Yeah, Breakdown doesn't exactly look like he fits in with all these well-to-do mechs. They won't pay too much attention to him, however, unless he starts making trouble. When he finally calls the frequency, Blurr immediately responds with text: << So you finally figured it out. Or did you have to ask someone else? >> There's probably a bit of a smirk in there. Meanwhile, he shrugs at Feint. << Why not? They knew I was in Kaon, and you know how Kaon is. Probably a good thing they did, given what happened, right? >> Breakdown growls audibly in a noise that suggests gears grinding against each other. His text is slow. He seems like the type who doesn't use text so often and has to think pretty hard about how you spell stuff, but stubborn enough to try to make sure it is spelled correctly. << Whatever, >> is not exactly the height of eloquence anyway. << So what the hell? >> about sums up most of their earlier conversation via facial expression, anyways. He might be about to taka taka some more (so to speak), but he startles alert when the lift of his gaze across the distance between them catches on Blurr with his companion. Feint was neither conscious nor in motion the last time he saw her, but it was pretty memorable. "Scrap!" says Breakdown. It's like a hello. He's very polite. "Blurr we almost -died-," Feint insists trying to beat Blurr's mind against the solid wall of reality with her words alone. "Hot Rod was badly injured, they started shooting at people. I tried to stop all that from happening but I'm not a soldier--" Breakdown's sudden interjection just about makes her jump out of her mesh. She visibly startles and reaches out to hold onto Blurr, staring at the big blue mech in surprise. They're quite the collection of blue, these three. Yes, they are all very blue. Literally they are physically blue, not necessarily depressed blue. Well at least Blurr isn't. He gives Feint a confused look. << I didn't almost die! >> He puts a hand on her shoulder and gives her a reassuring smile. << Look, I know it was scary but I honestly think you're just overreacting a bit. Everything will be fine, as long as you don't tell anyone else about what you saw, okay? >> Then he turns to Breakdown, still smiling, and waves him over. << What the hell what. What do you think? Primus you're dense. And slow. >> << That's the other problem. Why do I have to keep things secret? That's not a good thing, Blurr. If people are trying to hide what they're doing, it's because what they're doing is more than likely -wrong-, >> Feint protests. Shyly she glances up at Breakdown. "... Are you a friend of Blurr's? I'm sorry if I haven't met you yet, sir." Congratulations, BD. You are now 'sir'. Clanking across the distance between them across the rest stop, Breakdown does not bother with text for his response to that. He gives Blurr an annoyed look, an annoyed breath, and says, "What the hell is with you," which is the /best greeting ever/. "Uhm." He hesitates. "Yeah, uh, you didn't meet me. I mean, you were unconscious. Wait." Even Breakdown knows that that was not the correct way to go about saying this. He holds up both hands in a swift gesture. Wait! Wait! How do I words. << No, it's just because it would diminish profit opportunities. >> Blurr argues, though he doesn't seem to be getting annoyed or anything. He pats her. << It's going to be okay. Just give it time, alright? We just need some time to unwind. >> He then turns to Breakdown, ignoring the question. << Oh, I think he helped save you from that ugly guy who was tying to steal your spark. Yeah. >> This time the transmission is received by both of them. "Thank you," Feint says audibly to Breakdown, offering him a sunny expression. "I owe you a debt then; I'll find a way to repay you somehow." She means it; she doesn't like not doing something nice for someone when they've helped her. Why, she up and married Blurr at his request out of pure gratitude for him saving her life! The exchange rate may have been fudged a bit on that one. << There's more to life than just profit, Blurr. Doesn't it bother you that you're basically just a money making machine for someone else? >> she radios to him. "Yeah," Breakdown confirms with a nod as he glances a quick, baffled look at Blurr. He settles his weight back on his heels. "The creepy guy with the extra arms," he says. "I crushed a couple of 'em." He looks mulish for a moment, like he might be about to say something rude as he eyes Blurr, but something lends him powers of restraint. It's probably the sunshine in Feint's response. It seems to confound him, at laest for a moment that he spends blinking. "I didn't know you, you were just somebody stuck in a horrible, broken place," he tells Feint. "The rest of 'em, same deal. I'd smash it again. Wish I'd smashed it a lot more." Blurr shrugs at Feint's question. << Well, no. It's my job. Everyone has to make money somehow right? >> Yeah, he is really convinced that everything is okay. And apparently, Breakdown really likes smashing. Well, his name is Breakdown. Feint is less afraid of Breakdown (for now) and steps away from Blurr, comfortable with her surroundings again. She's a mite bit skittish. "Well thank you for mashing his legs. Tarantulas wanted me for his sparkmate, at least, that's what he told me before I passed out. Since you helped get me out of there, I owe you a favor, and you can call on me to help you someday." She doesn't ask if this is okay with Blurr, after all, this is a life debt, and they're personal. << Well yes, I understand that. But you're being treated like, well, -me-. A -thing- instead of a person. You had your memories compressed, Blurr! Axle was going to try to erase me right out of your mind and you wouldn't even have known it. >> "Thanks." Breakdown is a little uncertain about this, like he's not quite sure how to deal with gratitude having it presented to him. "Mostly I just wanted to make sure you ended up someplace safe. Didn't see you for a little while after this one buzzed off with you. Course, didn't see a lot of people, but--" He doesn't bother to continue with this line of reasoning, his arms folding weightily across his chassis as he frowns, glance skipping away, and then returning. He eyes Blurr. "Glad, anyways." He doesn't sound very glad, but it's not an adjective that comes naturally to him, evidently. << That's not true! >> Blurr protests. << It's for my own good, like I said. >> Yeah he keeps insisting that. << He wouldn't have really done it, Feint. >> He reassures her again, patting her on the back again. << Look I think we just need some time to cool off. >> The racer sits down on a bench below a holopanel map of Translucentia Heights. In the distance, someone is descending out of the skies above the expressway, headed for the building they are in. << He -said it to my face-, >> Feint insists. << Sometimes when people say something is for your own good it's for /their/ good, not yours. I know that's hard to accept, but sometimes people will lie to you to get you to do what they want. I have been alive for five hundred thousand years, love, this is experience talking! >> She's so busy trying to reason with Blurr that she lets her ability slip slightly, and this nudges a feeling of frustration and distress at Breakdown -- feelings that are not his. It's a little hard for Breakdown to tell that feelings of frustration aren't his, because his ground state at the moment is so frustrated. Distress is a little more unusual. He glances warily around, marking the advent of someone showing up, and scrapes backward with some paranoia as he stares up. He starts to demand, "Are there people after you or somethin'?" except that then he looks around and this is a residential area. He scowls and looks confused. << Oh, stop being so cynical Feint. >> Blurr transmits, still smiling. << I know you had some bad experiences but like I said I think you just need to take some time to calm yourself down. Maybe a drink or two. >> At Breakdown's question, he glances at the door, as that person who had been approaching just now walks in. He looks like a flight form, not as large of a shuttle as Blast Off but still space-worthy, with a slanted visor somewhat like Jazz's but red instead of blue. His optics immediately go to Blurr, though he does glance at the others, smiling politely. "Oh! Well that's certainly convenient. I was sent here to introduce myself to Blurr so this is a welcome coincidence. Unfortunate what happened to Axle but let's not dwell on the misfortunes of life." Turning to Feint after a brief pause, "You must be Feint. Heh, I'd wager every femme on Cybertron wishes she were you!" he jokes. Breakdown he doesn't recognize. "And you sir? Another one of Blurr's racing colleagues I take it?" Feint bows politely. "Hello sir," she greets demurely. She is developing a plan now that Blurr has given her his 'I know everything because I am fifteen years old' brush off. Seeing now that he is both stubborn -and- helpless, she decides that the paradigm must shift. She'll mollify him because she really does love him, but as for everyone else that comes into his life? Well, the chessboard has been arranged, and this pawn has just been turned into a queen. Firstly, this stranger knows about Axle, so that in and of itself has her on alert. She quickly scans him to check for weapons, hidden anything that might be unusual, but plays the part of the demure and mousy little fembot. "I'm just very lucky. Blurr is very kind to me," she murmurs just loud enough to be heard, tone submissive. She may live up to her name yet. "Yes," Breakdown grunts because it's the simplest answer that isn't entirely inaccurate. I mean, they both race. Technically, not at the moment, except technically, never mind. Bleeding paranoia waked to thrill along those empathic channels of frustration and unease that Feint has brought into being, he rounds on the stranger not entirely unlike a badger /in someone else's hole/, his fists lowered to his sides but wound tight-knuckled and tense. "Who the frag are you?" demands the big decepticon. Breakdown is a lot less subtle than Feint. Shocker. Well you know how it is. The less you know the more you -think- you know. That definitely applies to Blurr right now. He nods at the newcomer's entrance. << Oh, look like they replaced Axle already. No surprise there, they were pretty frantic about it. >> Both Feint and Breakdown receive that but whether the other mech does or not remains to be seen. Feint's scans would reveal that Axle's replacement doesn't seem to have any weapons on him at the moment. He smiles at her. "That's excellent to hear, and good to finally meet you, I've heard so much." He remains polite despite Breakdown's abrasive words. "As I thought, I can always pick out a racer whenever I see one. But--oh, where are my manners? My name is Cipher, and I'll be taking over Axle's job from here on. That is, I'll be in charge of Blurr's pit crew, maintenance, and anything else that might need tending to." Cipher turns to Breakdown. "I don't think I caught your name yet...?" Feint doesn't like that greeting either. She's suspicious, but she lets Breakdown play Conversation Interruptus with his bigger bulk and threat. She just moves back and next to Blurr, taking his arm. << Maybe you're right. It would be nice to rest, >> she reassures him. "Yeah well, I don't see as how who I am is any of your business," Breakdown growls, like he didn't just demand Cipher's identity for all the world like he's entitled to it. "I may be a racer but I ain't part of his crew. I done some maintenance in my time, worked with people who've pit crewed. Ain't none of 'em smile that much," Breakdown reports, crankily apocryphal. He clanks forward a half pace, glowering at Cipher on general principles as he blocks Blurr and Feint both with his heavy-fisted bulk. A small voice in the back of his mind wonders what exactly he thinks he's doing, but he has a long habit of ignoring inner voices that say things like this. Blurr nods and takes her hand, squeezing it a little. << Yeah, I think you of all people need it most. >> But he sighs when Breakdown seems to be trying to make things difficult. << Breakdown what's the matter with you? Don't you know how to be polite? >> He gives Cipher an apologetic look. Cipher chuckles. "My, not having the best of cycles are you? Well, that's all right. I won't be pushy. Perhaps sometime we can all making an outing to the Circle, hopefully that will cheer you? My treat." "What for?" Breakdown demands of Blurr. Like he needs a reason to be polite. He turns a narrow-eyed look back on Cipher as he settles his weight back on his heels again, breath huffing in a long grinding huff. "No thanks," he says. His reaction /is/ a little weird, and he knows it's a little weird, or at least is coming to recognize it as a little weird, but--. Having made the point, he's incapable of walking it back, apparently; he will stand here and glower. Blurr facepalms at Breakdown again. Ugh, this guy. << What do you mean 'what for'? Why not? Whatever, there's no point in arguing with you. You're just too stupid. >> He shakes his head, giving up. Cipher just shrugs. "Alright then, the offer still stands if you ever change your mind." he says, still smiling. He walks over to Blurr and begins scanning him to get some diagnostics. "Dear Primus, they weren't yanking a crankcase when they said you were a mess. But not to worry, I'll get you back in the right order as soon as I can." "Like you ain't stupid," Breakdown grunts, watching them both with the turn of his head. He huffs in an inexplicably fierce noise. He sends a short burst of text across the frqeuency a moment later. << He's weird and vibey. >> He must have spelled 'vibey' so painstakingly, too. Of course, his message is so slow, it's likely the conversation will have already moved on by the time he finishes. He must give Knock Out a headache, too. << People should react when you're that rude to them. Try it sometime. >> Blurr smirks. Maybe, but he's pretty sure Breakdown is stupider. << 'Weird and vibey'? What's that supposed to mean? He's not weird. You're weird. It's called self-restraint, you know. And you don't even know how to be polite. Who doesn't know how to be polite? That's just common sense. Common courtesy. Seriously. And I tried it before, on you actually. >> Once Cipher finishes the cursory diagnostics, he straightens. "Well now that I have a better idea of what needs to be done, I can start gathering materials and get my office space set up over at the IAA." He nods to Breakdown and Feint. "A pleasure meeting the both of you. And looking forward to working with you, Blurr." With that, he takes his leave. << I know how, >> Breakdown insists in writing. There has been no evidence of this so far, though, so Blurr would probably be forgiven for disbelieving it. He watches Cipher leave with narrowed eyes, and shakes his head. Out loud he goes, "Yeah, /okay/." << Then prove it. >> Blurr folds his arms. He would really like to see Breakdown trying to be polite. He doesn't even know him that well, but somehow the idea is amusing. << Be polite to the next person you see, whoever it ends up being. >> "Fine," Breakdown says. He folds his arms, too, and stands there stolidly for a moment, looking dour and unpleasant because that's basically what his face looks like. It doesn't take long before he turns his frown more fully on Blurr. He says, "Look, I ain't trying to make trouble for you with your pit crew or whoever. Felt something weird is all. Sorry." It's a little like being polite-- no, well, maybe not. It's closer than usual. << That's better. >> Blurr smirks, standing up. << At least a step in the right direction, anyway. Might need to lose the frown, though. >> He pokes at Breakdown's frowny forehead with a finger. << So what is that then, are you concerned about me? I barely know you. >> Breakdown scowls. He swats at Blurr's hand. It is pointless to swat at Blurr. Speed isn't even what Breakdown is for. "It's true," he says. "And honestly, when we got her out of there, I didn't like you much. Pretty sure that's mutual, so I don't know." Well. It's not super polite but it's pretty honest. He takes a step back, ducking his head as he turns his frown downward. He has no explanation for trying to protect Blurr, even /inside his own head/; he comes up with: "Maybe I was just angry, and I didn't like that mech." Yeah, it's pretty pointless to swat at Blurr. He just pulls his hand away before Breakdown can hit him. << Oh you didn't like him, just like you didn't like me either. Nothing new there. >> There's a pause and he gives Breakdown a curious look. << Do you ever find anyone to your liking at all? >> "Yeah," Breakdown says without thinking about it. Then he thinks about it, and smiles a little bit. He says, "...Occasionally." He scrubs his hands loosely together, pointed fingertips dragging along the back of opposite hand, and says, "Don't you get angry? Guess you're sitting on top of the world up here, but even /you/, look at what happened to Feint. Don't /you/ get mad? You're on top but everything's still fragged." Oh, what was that? Did Breakdown just smile? Blurr grins. << Oh, look, Breakdown is smiling! >> he points out. << Rare! >> He is really immature, isn't he. The racer shrugs at the question. << Well of course I was mad when I saw what happened to Feint. There's a time to be mad about slag, yeah. >> But he seems to be drawing a blank on that last statement. << What do you mean, everything is fragged? >> "What do you mean, what do I mean?" Breakdown runs over the text again, as if he might have read it wrong the first time. His smile is gone again. Nope, he hadn't read it wrong. Blurr tries to elaborate on it. << Well that was a fairly vague statement there, don't you think? Could you be a little more specific? Why do you think 'everything is fragged'? >> Breakdown thinks about it for a moment. He starts trying to explain in text, and then basically backspacebackspace in fresh frustration. "There's bots a lot smarter than me who can explain this," he says. "If you really don't understand. How messed up it all is. Everything right down to how our lives get run, how somebot's lives get run /out/. The Senate. Everything. What happened at the Institute, with all those ... wasted lives and tormented people, it's just ... just a symptom of everything else that's wrong." Blurr stares at blankly at Breakdown. He really looks like all that just went right over his head. << Well no place can be perfect! >> he finally transmits, his face going back to 'cheerful' mode. << Which 'institute' are you talking about? There are a lot you know. >> "The one we busted up," Breakdown says, like there was never any doubt that this could be what he meant. He stares wonderingly at Blurr and his cheerful features for a moment and then, slowly, shakes his head. << That was an institute? >> Blurr shakes his head too, only he does it a lot faster. << Doubt it, seemed more like a terrorist lab or something. That is one thing wrong with this world, of course. The terrorists. >> Breakdown actually laughs at this. He gives Blurr a long look, and then he laughs again. "No," he says. "I don't think so." But of course he wouldn't think so. He doesn't explain, though; instead, he takes another step back, turning his head to glance back toward the highway. "Watch your backs," he says, and then transforms back into his vehicle mode with a grinding stutter of engine as he wheels around across the pavement.